


Narcissism 2: Multiplied, Divided

by gimmefire



Series: Narcissism [2]
Category: Green Day, The Network
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Narcissism, Psychological Trauma, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-28
Updated: 2005-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billie is desperate to convince his bandmates that what happened the night of the Network concert was true, and the only way to do that is to hunt out the mysterious band themselves…which isn't such a good idea when their ringleader has just invented something deliciously fiendish...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Billie pushed back the shower curtain and stepped gingerly out of the bath, dripping all over the floor. Adie had told him a few times to dry himself before getting out, so there wasn't a small swimming pool on the floor for everyone else to negotiate once he'd gotten out. He'd really tried to heed her, but every time he left the towels over the other side of the bathroom...

Stifling a smile at that thought, he tiptoed over to the towels dumped in the corner and cast one over his body roughly. He scuffed it through his faintly curly black hair before wrapping it low around his waist and padding through the steam towards the door. Raising his hand to the door handle, the breath caught in his throat and he recoiled on seeing it turning of its own accord. He stepped back, wide eyes on the door as it swung open.

Black lips curled up into a wicked smile as a demon from his dreams leaned against the doorframe. The steam became fainter, seeking escape through the open door, being replaced by a rush of cold air. Billie felt all the tiny hairs on his body rise at once, and he shivered. He continued to watch this unearthly being, stepping back a few paces, and said nothing. The red vinyl suit squeaked faintly as the demon pushed away from the doorframe, taking supermodel-perfect, pendulum-hipped steps towards him. The fiery hazel eyes that demanded attention broke away from Billie's gaze, descending and exploring his body. Billie took another step back, one hand holding steadfastly onto the towel around his waist, the other half-raised and unsure what to do. Eyes cast over his body, every inch of him studied and caressed, the distance between the two of them closing rapidly, feet, inches...the demon then stepped to the side, circling around Billie as he stood, uncertain. The eyes all the time ghosting over him. He heard a barely-there snuffing laugh, and couldn't help but flinch as he felt a finger stroke over the punx tattoo on his hip. Billie stiffened, waiting for hands to join the eyes investigating him. Nothing came. In fact, all movement he could hear stopped.

After a few seconds, Billie looked behind him to see this masked devil looking at his shoulder, head tilted to one side. Billie followed his gaze to see a droplet of water slowly making its way down his arm. Seconds ticked by as the demon just...watched. He looked completely mesmerized by this simple act of gravity. And Billie was mesmerized by him. Suddenly, the hazel eyes moved up to meet his, and a small, warm smile crossed those black lips - something he'd never seen before. The eyes dropped back to the water droplet, and he stepped closer. Billie felt a hand come to rest on his opposite hip, before a tongue pressed lightly against his shoulder. Billie gasped quietly as the demon lapped at the droplet before following its trail up his shoulder, swirling meaningless little patterns along his pale skin. Tongue retreated into mouth as black lips pressed against his shoulder, devil slipping behind Billie as his mouth moved and marked along its way. Licking and kissing, shoulder, nape, neck, pulse points, along and over, down the chest, slinking and shimmering like ethereal steam or some sinuous creature, fingertips tracing over midriff tattoos...

Billie's eyes slid shut, utterly bewitched by these sensations. He heard his breathing become heavier, and emitted a small cry as teeth grazed harshly over his nipple. The mouth continued on its journey, descending to the hip tattoos, tongue lapping at them and lips closing over them as if being blessed. A hand came to rest on top of Billie's - the one now loosely holding the towel - and gently prised it away. The towel fell to the floor, and Billie stood there naked. Not that he really cared. His demon seducer straightened up, once again gliding behind him, hands at his waist and pulling him close. Billie felt that enchanting tongue once again lick at his shoulder, moving to the nape of his neck. He let his head loll back and rest against the vinyl covered shoulder behind it as teeth found skin and sank in hard, blood spilling and staining. Billie pressed back against him, delighted with the pain and expressing it vocally as the devil drank greedily.

"Fink..." he gasped.

 

With a sharp inhalation, Billie's eyes opened to find the ceiling and the darkness. He raised a hand to the nape of his neck and felt frantically for puncture or wetness. On finding nothing, he remembered how to breathe and blink, allowing his startled deer mind to calm down.

Adrienne stirred next to him.

"Mmmmn...you okay?" she asked, voice raspy from sleep.

Billie rubbed at his forehead as she rolled over and looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Yeah...yeah, just...freaky dream." he replied almost coherently.

"What this time?"

Billie allowed a few seconds as his breathing returned to normal and the image of his dream became imprinted on his mind.

"Vampire."

Adie chuckled softly, stroking his arm briefly before snuggling down and closing her eyes again.

"Maybe you should lay off the cheese for a while..." she murmured, already drifting off.

Nervous laugh, pained look.

"Heh, maybe..."

It was then he looked down. And turned onto his side as quickly as possible without disturbing his wife, facing the wall and gathering the sheet around his waist.

Welcome to Boner City, population: Billie Joe Armstrong.

His blush reached up to his ears as he desperately clawed for unsexy thoughts.

Ok, this is the fifth time I've had a dream like that and woken up like _this_. Fifth time in two weeks. Fifth time it's been him, and they're getting weirder. Two weeks since that concert.

I can't go on like this.

Something's gotta be done.

_________________________________________________________

 

The Network - well, most of them - sat around in the main hall of their warehouse home, occupying themselves with various activities. Learning the keyboard part from _Crazy Horses_ , playing wrestling games as female characters, reapplying bandages...not a particularly work heavy day. Making them pause in all their activities, however, was the sound of their ringleader's voice.

"Could all members assemble in the workshop, please..." Fink's voice crackled over the intercom. A chuckle followed, before his voice dropped to a breathy murmur. "I have something special to unveil."

As the static crackle faded, Van Gough tilted his head, mildly irritating The Snoo, who sat behind him helping with the bandages he couldn't reach.

"I guess he's finally finished..." he commented with some surprise. "Wonder what it is he's been so preoccupied with the last two months."

The Snoo leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Van Gough's shoulders, briefly squeezing at the places where there would be manboobs, were he not so damn skinny.

"Maybe it's a VR sex simulator..." he suggested, grinning.

There was a pause.

"Why would we need a simulator?" Balducci asked, inducing filthy chuckles from all present.

Bodies rose from the floor, smoothing out their garments to look their best, and made their way towards the workshop. All except Van Gough, who was promptly picked up and carried there, ever the blushing bride to The Snoo.

On arrival, they found Fink stood in front of his shrouded creation, a wide, smug grin on his black lips. Hands clasped behind his back, head raised, he looked like some villain from a spy movie. He spread his arms.

"Welcome, welcome, boys." he began. "As you all know, I've been a busy little thing recently. And until now, I've told no-one exactly what it is I've been doing. I've asked for your faith in me, and I'm very grateful to have gotten it. But now...I have finished."

"If you think this is worth all the pomp and grandeur and a third of our advance from Adeline, it must be special." Captain Underpants mused.

Fink's cool front dropped momentarily as he allowed himself to grin wolfishly.

"Oh, it is." he said, voice suddenly guttural, eyes glittering. He caught himself, and cleared his throat. "So...yeah. This is something I never thought could happen, I never thought I'd be able to do it. I didn't think it was even possible. But, as you'll see in a moment...it's scarily possible." Fink began to walk around the mysterious object as he continued. "This will help us, as The Network, to increase our saturation of the charts, and as Lushtologists, spread the gospel of our One True Religion, more so than any press ever could. This, friends, is our catalyst for _world domination_."

The rest of the band stood wide-eyed (well, those whose eyes you could see, at least), staring at this miraculous thing, almost drooling in anticipation. Fink looked at each of them, drinking in their reactions, before he grinned mischievously.

"Wanna see?"

Furious nodding followed, and Fink scampered back to the object, clearly bursting with excitement. He took hold of the edge of the sheet cloaking it, taking one last look at his band, before whipping it off and gracefully wrapping it around himself like a cloak. Standing unveiled in the middle of the room was...well, it was...a sort of tall tube thing with a door...and a bit to the side, and...

Z looked at the bemused looks on his bandmates faces, before voicing their thoughts.

"What is it?"

You wouldn't think it would be possible for Fink to look any more smug and mischievous, but the slightly unhinged glow that bloomed in his eyes said otherwise.

"I'll show you." he said, dropping his sheet cloak and smoothing down his ever-present vinyl jacket before reaching for the handle and opening the door.

"It looks like a giant dildo." The Snoo stated, perfectly serious.

Fink stepped into the odd looking machine, turning around and reaching for the door. He looked directly at The Snoo.

"It's better than a thousand dildos." he said quietly, before blowing a kiss at him and shutting the door. The Snoo let out a foolish laugh, looking to his bandmates.

"Oh boy." he giggled.

Fink's muffled voice came from inside the 'giant dildo'.

"Van Gough, be a lamb and push that little button on the side there."

Van Gough did as he was bid, and as he stepped back, the machine began to hum quietly. The outline of the door lit up, and the entire contraption began to shudder. The humming escalated into a whistling, making the band wince, before a loud, static-like crackle made everything stop. A few moments of uncertainty and silence followed, the machine motionless. Balducci took a few cautious steps towards it.

"Fink?"

Suddenly, another door opened from the bit attached to the side, and Fink stepped out, looking himself over and smoothing out his jacket again. Then he looked up at his bandmates and smiled. The Snoo looked amused.

"So it is a giant dildo. With the vibrating and humming..."

"Well, it's great and everything, but how is it gonna help us take over the world?" Z asked.

The door on the front opened up and Fink stepped out. Fink walked up and stood next to him. Their eyes glittered.

"Like this." they said.

A moment of jaw-dropped amazement passed, before The Network lost their aloof front and began leaping around in excitement, hugging each other like they'd just won American Idol.

"Oh my God! That's HUGE!!" Balducci cried. "You...you managed to...how the fuck did you..."

The Finks merely grinned in smug silence.

"Cloning...that's insane." Captain Underpants marvelled, looking from one to the other.

"Just so you can tell us apart..." The second Fink to emerge said, reaching behind the cloning machine. He pulled out a black collar, silver lead already attached. He attached the collar around his neck as he spoke. "I'll be wearing this. I'm the original Fink, the one with the collar."

"Why a collar?" Van Gough asked. He merely received a wicked grin in reply.

The Snoo scrambled towards the machine, eager to try it out himself, only to be halted by two gloved Fink hands on his arms.

"Wait, wait, wait. Until we can figure out a real plan for this thing, it's not to be used. Besides..." he looked to his identical counterpart. "I want to play."

"Play?"

The clone nodded.

"We'll be getting some visitors soon. And I think it's time we had some real fun with them." ha said darkly. "Now, everybody listen in - I'm feeling fiendish..."

___________________________________________________

 

"Don't look at me like that."

"Well how the fuck do you expect me to look at you?"

"Like I don't have horns, for starters."

"Kinda hard not to, Bill."

He knew that this was never, ever going to be easy. He'd thought about getting a little Dutch courage inside him, but saying what he'd just said to Mike and Tre would have been even less believable if he was drunk. Hell, if he was honest, he probably could have done without telling them at all. It would have meant not being on the receiving end of looks usually given to angry people who danced in the street with shoes on their hands and yelled about the apocalypse - he wasn't really fond of getting those looks. But for the last twenty-five minutes straight, that was all he'd been getting from his supposedly loyal and trusting Mike and Tre.

Billie let his head loll back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a loud, frustrated sigh.

"Do you really think I'm dumb enough to lie about this and expect you to believe it?" he asked.

Tre shifted uncomfortably and looked down, clearly concerned for his now apparently insane friend.

"You're not really leaving us many other options..." he murmured, wincing a little at the look he knew he was getting.

Billie glared at Tre, sitting up straight and indignant in his seat.

"Look, if I have to sit here all the goddamn day and night to convince you that I'm not bullshitting you - which I'm not - then so fucking be it." he stated resolutely. He was rather taken aback when Mike abruptly stood up.

"No, not so fucking be it." the bassist countered. "See, I can't sit around here all day and listen to you wax lyrical about some dream of fantasy or whatever, I've got shit to do. Fuck, you call me here saying it's important, and all you've gotta say to me is some shit about that Fink guy?" Mike paused in his mildly exasperated rant. "Like I said, I've got shit to do. And, contrary to what you seem think right now, the world doesn't revolve around you. So enough, ok?"

Billie frowned, fighting off a small pout.

"God...bad coffee day...." he muttered, looking accusing. Mike rolled his eyes.

"Don't even start with me. I'm not in the mood for this crazy little game, so just drop it." he said flatly. "I'm sick enough of hearing about what Fink's been saying about us, and now you come back with a story like that? I'm sick of him. And I don't wanna hear anymore bullshit."

Billie looked utterly wounded. He looked up at Mike with wide, hurt eyes.

"But I'm not lying..." he practically whimpered. His eyes moved to Tre as he too stood up, albeit looking more apologetic.

"Yeah, I think I better scoot too, Bill...places to go, y'know?"

As the two of them headed for the door, Billie stood up.

"Why won't you believe me?" he asked. Tre stopped and turned back.

"Well...you gotta admit it's kinda...crazy. And it's also kinda impossible."

"I know it is, believe me, I know...I've been questioning it ever since it happened, but I know what I saw. I know what I saw." Billie repeated, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Just let it go, man..." Mike sighed, clearly bored and pissed off with the whole thing. After a few seconds of silence, he looked back at Billie, and was shocked to see the front man standing there...with tears in his eyes. Mike's annoyance vanished as Billie looked at him, genuinely upset.

"Please don't treat me like I'm crazy, guys." Billie begged, voice cracked. "And please don't treat me like I'm lying. I'm not. I'm really, really, really not kidding. It...it's been hard enough to convince myself that I'm not going insane, and you just telling me to let it go...I-I can't. I can't forget what I saw, I can't get it out of my mind." he paused, looking miserable. "You gotta believe me..."

Mike and Tre exchanged a brief, surprised look, before hurrying up to Billie.

"Hey..." Mike said, voice soothing and low. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise..." he trailed off, unable to think of a way to finish his sentence.

"C'mon, B...you don't have to get upset..." Tre added, watching as Billie's eyes fell to the carpet, still glassy. Each took hold of an arm and lead him back to the couch, before sitting either side of him.

"I-I sat for so long afterwards trying to tell myself that I was seeing things, I couldn't have seen what I did...but I couldn't. I saw it, I swear..." Billie trailed off as Mike shushed him.

"Ok, ok...shh, don't get yourself worked up. Look, why don't you tell us again, tell us exactly what happened." he offered.

Billie nodded, sniffing a little.

"You know...you're the only people I've told about this since it happened. Because I trust you. And I really, really fucking hope you can believe me." he murmured, looking at each of his bandmates.

Tre rested his arm across Billie's shoulders, squeezing them briefly as his free hand stroked his arm, calming.

"Go on, tell us again." he said softly.

Now, being the doting husband he was, still being head-over-heels in love with Adie, Billie had thought it sensible to leave out the part about the sex. Mainly because he didn't think he could adequately explain it. Also mainly because he didn't think he understood it fully himself. But right now, the issue wasn't the sex. It was what had happened afterwards that was so troubling. And downright fucking scary, to be honest.

Billie sat for a few moments, replaying the night in his head for the bajillionth time. Then he sighed, and began.

"Ok...I showed up to the concert and got myself backstage, and after the band finished, I went back and confronted Fink in the dressing room. The rest of the band left, so it was just him and me. I told him to stop talking shit about us, he said he couldn't promise anything, and..." Billie paused to collect his thoughts and try to come up with a viable piece of filler to go in place of the illicitness. "And I told him, whatever he had to say, to just bring it on. We...we argued, he was being all calm about it and it just riled me up more, so I...I pulled his mask off."

"I thought they never showed their faces to anyone?" Mike said gently.

Billie gave a nervous, slightly unhinged sounding laugh.

"Guess I'm just special..."

"And what did you see?" Tre asked, already knowing the answer, the answer that had brought on all the dubious looks and pouting, the worries for their friend's sanity. Already knowing the answer but still asking for it one more time.

Billie looked down at his hands, at his forearms which each had a hand of one of his bandmates laying on top of them. He licked his lips and braced himself.

"Me."

Tre and Mike exchanged worried glances as Billie continued.

"It was me...me with-with dark eyeshadow and liner and lipstick...all made up, but...but it was me. I..." he paused for a few moments, remembering the moment the ski mask fell to the floor and he found himself staring at...himself. The stomach caving horror at seeing someone who'd not ten minutes ago seduced him and fucked him almost utterly senseless with awe-inspiring ease...

Looked _just like him_.

After he'd stared for a few moments in choked off silence, 'Fink' looking back at him with that now sinister grin on his face, Billie had gotten himself hastily presentable and scrambled out of there, not quite knowing whether to throw up or pass out. He'd arrived home looking grey.

"I..." Billie now found himself unable to get past that word. He swallowed and tried again, failing. His bandmates noticed the change in Billie's expression, seeing him pale, his eyes grow glassy and almost scared. Mike began rubbing his back, murmuring soothing words. Billie licked his lips again. He shook his head and leaning forward, palms resting over his eyes.

"I can't make any sense of it..." he muttered, and sniffed. After a few moments where he could feel Tre and Mike looking at each other worriedly, he spoke again, voice considerably smaller and more miserable. "You still don't believe me, do you?"

Mike was not a good liar, so he remained silent, leaving Tre to stumble over an excuse.

"Well, it's not a case of...um..." he paused and sighed sadly. "We're really trying, B."

Billie nodded into his hands.

"It's ok. That's ok. I understand." he murmured. "I don't really blame you. Just...don't have me committed, ok?"

He chuckled wearily, straightening up. Mike smiled sympathetically.

"Don't worry, we'll just forget you said anything, ok? And you can forget you saw anything. We'll get The Network off Adeline. No matter how good their music is, it's not worth it if you're going to freak out every time you see them. Maybe we can move them out of that warehouse, away from here. Put 'em up in..." he trailed off when Billie looked round at him suddenly.

"Warehouse?" Billie echoed. His eyes lit up. "That's fucking it!" he leapt up and scampered out of the room, Mike and Tre following in bewilderment. They found him in his office, digging through a drawer. He pulled out a black book, flicking impatiently through the pages until he let out a eureka-like 'A-HA!'

"What're you..." Tre began, before Billie whirled round and brandished the book triumphantly in their faces. On closer inspection, it was his address book - and the address he was so excited about was that of the warehouse.  
"I got it in case we couldn't get a hold of Dr. Svengali...boy am I glad for that!" he exclaimed. "Now we can go to the warehouse and I can SHOW you! I can show you Fink...I can show you I'm not crazy!"

The maniacal glint in Billie's eyes made Mike and Tre silently beg to differ. But, if it put an end to all this...

Mike smiled disarmingly.

"Sure. Let's do it. Hell, why not right now?"

Billie faltered.

"Uh...well, ok, just gimme a second..." he mumbled, then ran off again, this time upstairs. A few minutes later, he descended the stairs all...smartened up. Tie, shirt, the works, as if he was about to play a show.  
And wearing eyeliner, no less.

He paused at the last step, looking at his bandmates.

"What?"

Both of them stared at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Do you know you're wearing eyeliner?" Mike asked.

"Yeah...so what?" Billie replied.

Pause.

" _Why_ are you wearing eyeliner?" Mike asked. He didn't fail to see the blush tinge his cheeks. He definitely didn't fail to notice Billie's sudden defensiveness, either.

"I just kinda felt like it, ok? What, don't you like it? Whatever, I do." Billie said in annoyance, breezing past them and only pausing to catch his reflection in the mirror and fiddle with his hair, before opening the front door and leaving. "Let's go!"

Tre leaned over to murmur to Mike as they followed.

"Is he _dressing up_ for this?" he whispered incredulously. " _Why_ is he dressing up for this?"

Mike could find no answer. He resigned himself to the fact if Billie was indeed dressing himself up to meet himself, then yes, he had indeed lost at least a couple of his marbles.


	2. Part Two

Sitting in the car - passenger, by Mike's stern dictation - Billie was definitely becoming nervous. It could have been uneasiness, it could have been excitement. He refused to guess for fear it was the latter. Was he _really_ looking forward to this? Was he really inwardly buzzing with anticipation at meeting Fink again? At meeting and...maybe...just maybe...more?  
  
The knot in his stomach tensed at that thought. _What kind of fucking pervert am I if I'm actually looking forward to having sex with_ myself _? Is he just a lookalike, or is he a twin or...  
  
What _**is** _he?_  
  
Those dreams he'd been having, intensely sexual, always with some kind of perversion...vampirism, whips and domination, restraints, corsets and heels, even darker things like cutting... Some of those things he wouldn't normally even consider as erotic, but they would inevitably led him to waking up and scrambling quietly off to the bathroom so he could finish himself off, mind still overwhelmed with images and sounds and uncontrollable lust.  
  
Sometimes it was all he could do not to take himself off in the middle of the night to the warehouse and plead with Fink to fuck him. But, as he would sit exhausted on the bathroom floor, rationality would take over - no fucking way. There was just...no way he could do it. Shame would well up inside him, shame at this bizarre and frankly wrong sexual desire for someone who looked just like him. Did it mean he really just wanted to have sex with himself? Was that all it boiled down to?  
  
No, it wasn't.  
  
The one thing that prevented him from coming to any final decision was this:  
  
It felt right.  
  
Afterwards, there was the self-loathing and disgust and total headfuck meltdown, but during the sex, it felt right, and natural. Not just in-the-moment right, not even the kind of right he felt with Adrienne. It was just...he felt sort of...complete. Like this was what he'd been destined for, or something. It was really, really hard to explain, even to himself. But if it did feel that right, then it can't be a coincidence that he and Fink know each other. The Network couldn't have just happened to come to Billie's attention, come to be on Adeline, come to start dissing Green Day and end in Billie going to confront Fink, only to end up having sex with him.  
  
It couldn't all be a fucking coincidence.  
  
Which led back to the all important question.  
  
What is he?  
  
If he's not an astonishing lookalike fucking with Billie's head, if he's not a long-lost twin wanting some incest...  
  
What the fuck IS he?  
  
And this would be the point where a fount of outlandish, paranoia-driven thoughts would explode in Billie's head.  
  
Vampire? A shape-shifter or something? Or, dear God...an _alien?_ At their show, they had played Teenagers From Mars...yes, a Misfits cover, but...why that song in particular? The lyrics, Billie could vaguely remember some of them...  
  
 _We are the angel mutants, the street's for our seduction....in this B film bomb invasion...  
  
Well, we need no introduction, no visas or carte blanc, inhuman reproduction, we are here for what we want  
We want, we need it, we'll take it  
We want, we need it, we'll take it  
We want, we need it we'll take it... </b>_  
  
Billie sank down in his seat, thinking those lyrics over in his head.  
  
 _Inhuman reproduction...we want, we need it, we'll take it..._  
  
Then he stopped.  
  
 _Oh my fucking God, I'm pregnant with an alien's baby._  
  
He clapped both hands over his mouth in an instinct to stifle the terrified squawk that sprang from his throat. Tre jumped and looked at him.  
  
"What? What is it?" he said urgently, worried. He saw Billie's wide, black-rimmed eyes and rested his hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to throw up? Do you want Mike to stop?"  
  
"What's going on?" Mike asked, looking at Billie in the rear-view mirror.  
  
A few seconds passed before Billie remembered he needed to breathe. After a few shaky breaths - and wondering if he did actually want to throw up - he withdrew the mildly trembling hands from his face and spoke.  
  
"N-no, it's...I...just..."  
  
Hell, was there even any point in explaining?  
  
"Never mind." he murmured.  
  
Tre rubbed his arms briefly in comfort, making Billie look at him. Rather than look at him like he was the proverbial Basket Case of song, he was smiling softly, affectionately. He pulled Billie closer to him and kept an arm draped around his shoulders, hugging him gently. Billie smiled nervously back before his eyes returned to the road ahead. His eyes met Mike's once again in the rear-view mirror, who kept looking between him and the road, offering a soft smile himself.  
  
They may not believe me, Billie thought, but they do care about me.  
  
He snuggled closer to Tre and watched the road pass beneath them, anxiousness making his mouth dry. His wide hazel eyes watched, full of trepidation as the lights along the street became more sporadic, the journey soon to be reaching its end on the outskirts of Oakland.  
  
His mind briefly returned to the thought of pregnancy, before he stopped himself.  
  
 _God,_ he thought. _This is why you've become such a fucking wreck the last two weeks. Stop analysing it. Stop trying to explain it. Stop thinking about it. Just concentrate on going there and proving you're not insane. You KNOW what you saw. You saw your face staring back at you, there's no way you could've seen otherwise. So now you're gonna go rip off that mask and prove it to Mike and Tre. THEN you can all work out how and why. So just simmer the fuck down.  
  
And stop talking to yourself in the second person. _ God.  
  
  
Minutes passed, and the car came rolling to a halt. Billie, Mike and Tre peered through the window at the looming warehouse. Poorly lit, they could only make out a faint outline before them. Billie's heart thumped hard in his ears. He was the last to emerge from the car.  
  
"C'mon, Bill, you were raring to go before!" Mike exclaimed, walking backwards with his hands in his pockets as he eyed Billie. "What's up with you?"  
  
Billie didn't reply. He kept his head low and tried to slow his heart. God, he was almost shaking.  
  
On reaching the large door, Mike rapped on the corrugated metal and called out.  
  
"Hello? Network residence?"  
  
A few seconds of quiet passed before the door opened. It swung wide, seemingly of its own accord, to a long, empty corridor. A long, empty...and decked out corridor.  
  
"Fuck...well at least we know where that advance money went..." Tre murmured, leaning in and casting his eyes around the softly lit, sparsely furnished, but nonetheless nice digs. It actually looked like they'd just walked into a house. Mike poked his head in.  
  
"Anycrazy home? Can we come in? Label boss plus two!"  
  
Billie remained on the outside, hovering nervously. Mike was exuding a confidence that both irritated him immensely and scared the hell out of him. He didn't like how they were rushing into this, not at all. Mike looked back at him, shrugging.  
  
"Guess we'll just go in and flush 'em out."  
  
Mike strolled in, eyes roaming around him, Tre following.  
  
Billie watched them walking away. He contemplated running for the car and speeding off, leaving them to it. But even as he thought that, he found himself edging warily inside.  
  
Scurrying to catch up with his band mates, Billie kept close to them, eyes flicking warily around each time they passed a closed door. Mike strode ahead, totally unfettered, Tre slightly behind him, eyes roaming all over the place, intensely inquisitive. Billie attempted to swallow his fluttering heart back down from his throat. The corridor ended, and the trio were confronted by another closed door, larger than the others, more gilded. Mike looked it over briefly, before reaching for the handle.  
  
"Wait a se-" Billie began, silencing himself as the bassist opened the door.  
  
A much larger room greeted them, around half the size of the entire warehouse. Wide and vast, fluorescent lights hung high and shone dully off the corrugated metal ceiling and lit the room below just enough. In the centre of the room sat three threadbare couches, a large coffee table, and a worn looking rug. A lamp shed a little more light on this small ensemble. It also glinted off a golden suit that stretched languidly across one of the couches. Helmet covered head tilted cockily up, visor obscuring the face, overall cutting a very sinister figure in the gloom.  
  
A few moments passed as the two parties regarded each other, before Green Day approached this, the first member of the Network they had discovered.  
  
"Captain Underpants, I presume." Mike sort-of greeted.  
  
"Fuckin' name stealin'..." Tre growled.  
  
Captain Underpants chuckled.  
  
"It's not like you were using it." he replied childishly. "What brings you boys here?"  
  
"Where's Fink?" Mike asked.  
  
Captain Underpants stretched, curling his hands, before pushing himself up, making Mike take a step back.  
  
"So...it's always about the Fink, isn't it?" he drawled. He moseyed around the coffee table slowly. "No-one really cares about Z, or Captain Underpants, no-one cares about the rest of the band...It's always about the Fink."  
Mike shrugged.  
  
"I don't know...I always thought that Van Gough was nicely...cheekbonesy..." he murmured.  
  
"The Snoo's got those...fishnets going on, too..." Tre agreed.  
  
Captain Underpants stopped in front of them, his head slowly moving as he looked at each of them in turn. His eyes settled on Billie, standing at the back in the shadows and keeping as quiet as possible. He swallowed when Captain Underpants looked in his direction.  
  
"But you're still all looking for the Fink...right, Mr. Green Day?" the gold suited asked rhetorically. Billie remained silent. "Guess you told all your friends about how fun it was, and now they all want a piece of the action, huh?"  
  
Billie's eyes grew to saucers, and he shook his head manically, giving Captain Underpants a pleading look. Mike and Tre frowned in confusion.  
  
"Fun?" Tre echoed. "What kind of fun? Bill, I thought you..."  
  
"OH!" Captain Underpants exclaimed melodramatically. "I see. You didn't tell them the whole story, did you? Ah." he tapped a finger to the side of his head and whispered "Smart move."  
  
Billie scratched at his chest nervously, not meeting his inquisitive bandmates' eyes.  
  
"L-look, could you just tell us where Fink is?" he asked, more than a hint of desperation in his voice.  
  
"...and now you're back for more." Underpants said, nodding decisively, folding his arms.  
  
Billie made a small choked noise, before protesting fiercely.  
  
"I am not!" he cried. "I'm here to show them what I saw two weeks ago!"  
  
"Oh, you were that impressed by Fink, you've got to introduce your band to the experience. What, are you going to go all at the same time, or...?"  
  
Billie made another choked noise, and had now turned bright red. The curious gazes from his bandmates were now burning through him.  
  
"Where is Fink?" he asked slowly, glaring at his antagonist. The two of them stared each other down for a long time. Then Captain Underpants raised his arm and pointed up to the side of himself. The trio followed his indication, and found themselves looking into blackness. As if by magic, a light flickered on near the ceiling, illuminating a black metal staircase criss-crossing up the entire wall. The light was positioned just over one particular door on the top floor. Billie, without a backward glance, walked towards the staircase. This time it was Mike and Tre's turn to follow, after wary frowns in Underpants' direction. Billie began ascending the stairs, eyes fixed to the top floor as if he was being guided by some heavenly light instead of a fluorescent one. His bandmates caught up, feet clattering up the steel.  
  
"What the hell did he mean by 'fun'?" Mike murmured.  
  
"I thought you said you spent the whole time arguing?" Tre said suspiciously.  
  
Billie sighed, hoping his blush hadn't returned.  
  
"Guys, can we just focus on what we came here to do, please?" he muttered as they rounded the second flight. "Fink'll be trapped here, there's no way he can get out without getting past us."  
  
His heart was still fluttering.  
  
On reaching the top, Billie paused and looked with trepidation at the door handle. As he reached for it, it began to turn on its own. Déjà vu flashed through his head suddenly, and he shrank back against Mike and Tre. Only this time, the door swung open to reveal Z and Balducci. Pressed very close together. One's arms wrapped around the others waist. Looking like they'd been fucking all of two minutes ago. There was a distinctly predatory glint in Balducci's eyes.  
  
"May we help you?" he asked silkily.  
  
Billie swallowed and regained his voice.  
  
"Is Fink in there?" he asked in a small voice.  
  
The two of them grinned knowingly, making Billie look down, shamefaced. They slunk to the side, letting the band pass. As they did, Z and Balducci disappeared into a dark room behind them, chuckling to themselves as the door closed.  
  
Another corridor, smaller this time. And standing a little way down, leaning casually, one foot against the wall behind him...was Van Gough. He slowly turned his head, looking directly at Mike.  
  
"Howdy, Cheekbones." he greeted in a low voice.  
  
Mike merely nodded in recognition, looking the bandaged bassist up and down. Van Gough pushed away from the door, walking towards him. Billie backed away a little; Mike didn't move. Van Gough began walking around him, looking all over him. He then reached out and lifted Mike's arm up as he talked. His fingers trailed and circled towards his hand.  
  
"My name's Van Gough, I'm a Taurus."  
  
Mike watched him fixedly, part confusion, part fascination on his face. Van Gough took hold of his hand.  
  
"What're you talking to these dicks for?"  
  
He leaned close until he was bumping shoulders with Mike, whispering in his ear.  
  
"I got some leather, lube and bad, bad thoughts with your name aaaaall over 'em."  
  
Mike stared at him, trying to see through those dark sunglasses. Van Gough began walking backwards. And Mike followed.  
  
Billie looked between the two of them.  
  
"M...Mike...?" Billie almost whimpered.  
  
Mike didn't even look back. He held up his hand towards Billie, drawn forward by Van Gough's gaze...and words.  
  
"Two seconds..." he said distractedly.  
  
And another door closed - only this time, they'd lost a member of their band to the Dark Side. Billie's breathing quickened.  
  
"Oh my God...did you see him?!" he hissed. He spun around. "Tre, can you see how weird this is? Mike just...goes off with that guy, like he's hypnotized or something..."  
  
"That is kinda weird...I wonder what-" Tre began.  
  
"They're aliens, Tre, fucking _aliens_!" Billie interrupted in a strangled voice. "I wasn't sure before, but now...they've come here to, to hypnotize all of us and fucking impregnate us with their alien seed!" he grabbed Tre by the shoulders, who was now looking even more in doubt of his friends sanity. "It's too late for me, but you should go, just fucking run while you can, man!"  
  
"Too late for you? What the hell does that mean?!" Tre asked, utterly confused. Billie was rubbing his head more than a little manically.  
  
"No, no, no, no...you shouldn't go, because I have to prove it to you! We have to go get Fink and I'll prove _everything_!" He spun around and set his sights on the door at the end of the corridor, painted black and foreboding. He marched forward and fumbled at the door handle. "I'll prove this to you, Tre, I swear it - and even if I die from the alien baby coming out of my stomach, you'll know-"  
  
A muffled yelp made Billie spin around in time to see some legs disappearing into another room opposite Van Gough's, the door slamming shut. Some fishnet covered legs.  
  
"Tre...?" Billie's eyes flicked desperately around, finding he was worryingly alone in the corridor. His back pressed up against the door and his breathing emerged in short hisses. He hadn't planned for this at all. He hadn't planned for his bandmates to get kidnapped and almost certainly violated. He hadn't planned to be alone when he faced Fink... He briefly contemplated just running for it. Teetering on the edge of decision, it was made for him when the door he was leaning on opened beneath him, and he stumbled back into utter blackness. Regaining his footing after a few steps, he could only watch in horror as what little light there was in the room, the rectangle of light that was the doorframe, was extinguished as the door slammed shut.  
  
At first, Billie froze, heart thundering. He decided that, if he kept as still as possible, his eyes would eventually adjust to even the faintest hint of light and he'd be able to fumble his way to the door and get the hell out of there. So he froze and tried not to even breathe. The plunging blackness that surrounded him showed no sign of letting up, though, and it was then he started to get just a little bit scared. He shivered hard suddenly and listened hard for any hint of movement. He found it.  
  
A squeak. Not of the rodent variety, but of the shiny vinyl clothing variety. Probably, he guessed, the red devil-tailed kind.  
  
"Fink...?" he breathed. He licked his lips as the room fell utterly silent again. It was soul sucking. Billie turned his head and listened intently, before turning around in a full circle. Nothing. He took two, three very slow, careful steps backwards, hands raised ready to catch himself whichever way he might fall. Another squeak, and he froze again. Very close.  
  
Suddenly, breath was expelled sharply over his throat, making Billie damn near shriek and scramble backwards. His calves hit something solid, and he fell dramatically backwards, collapsing onto...onto...  
  
Billie's body bounced gently a few times before settling still. His fingers moved, trembling, beneath him. He felt fabric, velvet. Light engulfed him suddenly, making his eyes snap shut in pain. Almost on the point of hyperventilating, Billie willed his vision to adjust quicker, opening his eyes and squinting up at the solitary, red veiled light hung directly above him. Then, to his alarm, the object he was reclining on began moving. Looking around him, he could finally see what it was.  
  
A bed, draped in red velvet. A circular bed.  
  
A circular _revolving_ bed.  
  
"Oh...my God..." he whimpered.  
  
And then...  
  
Footsteps. Stepping into the light. Billie's eyes were brought front centre by the red devil who'd materialized before him. Hands behind his back, eyes clear and glittering under the light. Tied around his neck was a large red satin bow. And wearing...of all things, wearing...cat ears. Billie stared at him in wonder.  
  
That smile, the smile that could start a thousand riots, blossomed on his face.  
  
"Surprise." Fink murmured.  
  
Dumbstruck. Billie was utterly dumbstruck as his eyes moved to follow Fink as the bed beneath him span slowly. After the first rotation, Fink knelt on the bed and crawled towards Billie, slinking up next to him and trailing a hand up his side. He held Billie's gaze steadily, dark-rimmed hazels wide and fiery. His hand reached Billie's neck, then his cheek, before he chuckled quietly.  
  
"I like it when you sweat..." he hissed, leaning in and tracing Billie's jawbone with his tongue, lapping at the small beads of sweat that were beginning to form all over his face. He teased around Billie's lips, dancing close but never claiming them. Billie whimpered again, though this time it wasn't out of fear.  
  
Despite his initial outrage, subsequent shame and, more recently, fear, Billie found himself once again utterly fucking helpless in Fink's hands. Or tongue, rather. Not one thought of the fact that his doppelganger was licking his face, or that this whole event had somehow been orchestrated by said doppelganger crossed his mind. Hell, not one thought crossed his mind at all. On sight of this magnificent red devil, his mind went on gleeful auto-pilot. And he found himself whimpering more, pressing closer and turning his head to encourage Fink towards his neglected lips. Eventually Fink complied, pressing his lips oh-so-gently against Billie's. Synchronicity followed, lips parting as one almost, heads tilting and tongues sweeping together. There's that familiar taste again, Billie thought...  
  
It was this that made him break away. He swallowed and took a few breaths.  
  
"You taste good scared." Fink commented, enjoying the hazy, befuddled look in Billie's eyes.  
  
"F-Fink...you...I have to...We have to go...M-Mike and Tre, I have to show them..." he said weakly.  
  
"Oh...you want to share me now?"  
  
"No, that's not-ah!" Billie gasped as Fink's hand had slipped surreptitiously under Billie's shirt, tickling torturously.  
  
"So you want me all to yourself?" Fink whispered into his ear.  
  
Billie arched into his touch.  
  
"Y-yes, I...ohh..." Using all his willpower, he raised his hand and stopped Fink's from moving further. "NO...this isn't..." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking down at the reclining devil with mildly desperate eyes. "Look, Fink...we need to talk about what happened two weeks ago. About...what you are."  
  
"What I am?" Fink echoed innocently. He rolled onto his back and stretched deliciously, back arching powerfully, jacket glinting in the red light. He moaned quietly, as if this mere action was intensely arousing. He pressed his black lips together before opening his eyes and looking lovingly up at Billie. "Why, I'm your kitten, babe."  
  
He pawed at the black ears on his head, before stretching up and nuzzling at Billie's chest. Billie fought vainly.  
  
"Fink...Mike and Tre, they think I'm insane, you've gotta come with me and we can show them what you are. You have to."  
  
Fink pulled away, head lolling to the side as he surveyed the diminutive guitarist.  
  
"Are you sure they care about that right now?"  
  
Billie blinked.  
  
"Of course they care, what do you..."  
  
Fink reached up and pressed a finger to Billie's lips, before turning his head.  
  
 _"Listen."_  
  
Billie obeyed. At first, aside from the quiet whir of the revolving bed, he heard nothing. Then...ever so quietly...  
  
"Fucking...ah...harder...please, just...AH!" Mike.  
  
LASH! "Thank you sir...oh God, please may I have another..." Tre.  
  
He shouldn't really have been surprised. He should have seen it coming, He should have seen this whole night coming. And maybe, deep down, he did. And still walked willingly into the lion's den.  
  
Or kitten's den.  
  
"So...If they're all wrapped up in themselves, don't you think we should busy ourselves while we wait?" Fink offered temptingly. He nuzzled at Billie's chest again. "Kitten needs snuzzles..." he pleaded.  
  
A quiet protest voiced itself in Billie's head. Then he thought of his bandmates getting _very_ laid in the next rooms. The quiet protest showed itself out. Hesitantly, not entirely sure what Fink was asking for, Billie raised his arm and began to scratch lightly at the side of the 'kitten's' neck. Fink's eyes slid shut and he smiled, bending his head to the side to give more access to his pale neck. He gave a quiet moan, so Billie assumed he was doing it right. Watching Fink carefully, he bent his head and began to kiss the other side of his neck delicately. Fink made another noise of approval, allowing Billie to continue for a few minutes before pulling away.  
  
"My turn, my turn..." he said, excitement lacing his usually silky tones. He twisted elegantly around, settling behind Billie and helping him to shoulder off his jacket. Casting it aside, Fink pulled him close and swirled his tongue around the side of his neck, descending to the nape as he pulled Billie's shirt to the side. Billie's eyes closed and he pressed back, enraptured. Fink paused, lips hovering over the nape.  
  
"Déjà vu..." he murmured.  
  
Billie's eyes opened again.  
  
"What...?" he asked. Fink's hands moved to rest around Billie's waist.  
  
"Well, this...right now...don't you just get the weirdest feeling of déjà vu?" He pressed closer, lips brushing barely against Billie's earlobe, before saying something that made his blood run cold. "I'll pick up where I left off, shall I?"  
  
Billie gasped and scrambled away, teetering precariously on the edge of the bed, eyes wide and wild as he stared at Fink in utter panic.  
  
"Wh...wh...How did..." he stumbled, fear growing as Fink only stared back at him, demonic grin curling his black painted lips. After taking a few short breaths, Billie spoke.  
  
"What ARE you?!" He cried.  
  
"Not what you think he is."  
  
Billie's head snapped around in the direction of the voice, eyes growing impossibly wider as he recognised it. And, stepping into the light before him...  
  
Fink.  
  
Red vinyl, striped mask, black make-up, and a collar and lead. Fink.  
  
Billie looked from him to the Fink that was reclining on the bed next to him. One Fink to the other. One Fink...to the other. Billie clasped both hands over his mouth as he let out a strangled sob of sheer terror. The bed stopped moving suddenly, the Fink's directly in front of one another. They looked back at him, identical grins on their faces. The second Fink - the one with the collar - looked at him lovingly, giving a small wave.  
  
"Hey, sweetcake."  
  
Billie was now on the brink of either bursting into hysterical tears or passing out. He let out another choked sob.  
  
 _Oh my God, I'm insane...  
  
I've actually gone insane..._  
  
Fink Two seemed to notice and actually care about the look of fear and abject nausea all over Billie's face. His smile faded a little, and he looked concerned.  
  
"I never meant to scare you..." he murmured, almost apologetic.  
  
"What...what...God..." Billie stammered, eyes still saucers and voice taut. "Why are you doing this to me?! What the fuck ARE you?!!" he said shrilly.  
  
"Shh, shh..." Fink Two soothed, walking around the bed, arms outstretched. "It's ok, you don't have to-"  
Billie leaned back, arm out straight in front of him.  
  
"Don't!" he snapped. "Tell me what the hell is going on, Fink, or whoever the fuck you are!"  
  
Fink sighed, then nodded.  
  
"Yes...I suppose you should be told..." he admitted softly.


	3. Chapter 3

_Fink sighed, then nodded.  
  
"Yes...I suppose you should be told..." he admitted._  
  
  
He sat on the edge of the bed, Billie shrinking away at the other end. "I'm guessing you've been wondering how I've known so much about you. How I seem to know what you're going to say right before you do, how I knew you were going to come here tonight...how I know just the way you like it?" he said gently. Billie made no reply, only continued to stare at him. Fink's voice dropped and he leaned a little closer. "How about those dreams? The domination...you in a corset and heels...those black metal handcuffs...and the blood-drinking? And now you're wondering how I knew about them? And...now you're wondering if I'm reading your mind?"  
  
"Jesus..." Billie breathed. Everything had been true.  
  
"Well...I'm not an alien. I'm not a mutant, or a...a shape-shifter, a twin, a vampire, and I can't read minds. I'm human...ok?" Fink said slowly. Billie was astounded about how normal the red devil was acting. But that was probably the least of his worries. Fink took a breath. "So, how can I know all that about you?"  
  
Billie almost feared the answer.  
  
"Because I am you."  
  
"No you're not..." Billie whimpered desperately. "You're not..."  
  
"Well, you're right, no. Not technically, I suppose. But I am a _part_ of you."  
  
"Y'know, this isn't really helping me..."  
  
"Ok, ok. Let me tell you where all this started. Remember a little while ago, you went off to New York for a month. Sorta binge and purge, drinking ‘til 3, waking at 3, right? When you came back, did you feel a little bit out of sorts?"  
  
Billie watched him warily.  
  
"I felt sore...sore and a little bit better, but...yeah, I felt a little different..." he wasn't entirely sure what he was letting himself in for by admitting that.  
  
"Well...you did more purging than you knew." Fink informed. He gave a bemused little laugh and shrugged. "You purged me, babe."  
  
Once again, Fink got no response. Only confused staring. He tried again.  
  
"I don't really know how to explain it or anything, I don't know quite how it happened myself, but...on the third to last night, you passed out on your hotel bed. And all of a sudden, I'm standing right there. Last thing I remember is trying not to spill the bottle of wine in my hand - YOUR hand - while I lay down and rested my eyes a bit. Then...I'm standing right next to you. Looking down at you sleeping. Looking down at me. Whatever happened that night...you performed your own little exorcism."  
  
Billie watched Fink for a few more moments, before looking to Fink One, still languishing next to him. Fink One nodded in confirmation. Fink Two continued.  
  
"I ended up wandering around NY for a week or two, before going to LA. And somehow - again, can't really explain it - I ended up in a band. And I moved in here."  
  
"Exorcism..." Billie murmured incredulously, shaking his head. He raised a hand and pointed at Fink Two. "So...you're...the reckless drinker, the debauched partier, the...the shameless flirt, the gay nympho...you're all that, all of that that was inside me?"  
  
"Well, not _all_ of it." Fink Two replied coyly. "You're still a little crazy. I'm just a big chunk of it. I guess you could say...I'm your St. Jimmy."  
  
Billie's eyes nearly popped out of his head.  
  
"Holy fuck, you ARE me!" he exclaimed. "How could you know about St Jimmy if you weren't..."  
  
Fink Two nodded sagely.  
  
"And then there's what happened two weeks ago..." he said softly. He shifted a little closer. "The reason why you and I both know that it felt so, so right, so natural, is because it was. It was how it was before. Two halves of one whole...coming together." he meshed his fingers in demonstration, then leaned on his hands, the wicked sparkle returning in his eyes. "And that's how I knew exactly how to push your buttons. MY buttons. And best of all..." his voice dropped to a whisper. "...it's not even cheating."  
  
"I guess...not." Billie agreed, still somewhat mystified. It all made sense, but in the most mind-boggling, crazy, implausible way. He looked to Fink One again. "So...if I dare even ask, what the fuck are you?"  
  
Fink One grinned slyly.  
  
"I'm you too."  
  
"Well, kinda." Fink Two cut in. "He's me. He's a clone."  
  
"A _what_?"  
  
"Yeah, weird, isn't it?" Fink One said breezily. "Can I fuck you now?"  
  
"How are you a clone?" Billie asked, ignoring the question, before turning his head to Fink Two. "How is he a clone?"  
  
"Well, you know what it's like, you get bored, you play around with some science..." Fink Two said vaguely. "Next thing you know, you find out how to clone things! I'm as surprised as you, really."  
  
Billie gave a blank stare.  
  
"You just happened upon cloning?" he asked. Fink Two nodded, shrugging. Billie sat in silence for a while, before taking a huge breath. "Ok...." he sighed.  
  
Fink Two's eyes sparkled as he leaned forward in earnest.  
  
"But this is the best part - he's a present. A present for you, to make up for the last two weeks where you must have been going stir crazy." he said brightly. "So now you have me times two."  
  
Fink One slithered across, appearing in Billie's lap suddenly, hands clasping his and head resting against his stomach as he looked up at him.  
  
"What more could you ask for?" he purred.  
  
Billie didn't snatch his hands away, as he would have done a few minutes ago.  
  
"So..." he began. "I'm...half of what I was..." he indicated to Fink Two. "You're the other half...and..." he looked down at Fink One. "...he's another half?"  
  
"That's about right." Fink Two nodded, dragging his lead through his fingers and eyeing Billie in a most predatory manner. "One and a half times the fun."  
  
Suddenly, as if the control was hooked to Fink's brain, the bed began revolving again. Fink Two shifted to his hands and knees, slinking elegantly towards Billie, eyes shining dark in the red light. He sloped up beside him, hands finding their way under his shirt to caress his sides. Billie said nothing, only watched him constantly. Fink Two smiled, lips moving to Billie's ear, kissing and nipping briefly, before speaking.  
  
"One and a half times the decadent, sen-su-a-l _gratification..._ "  
  
His voice ended in pleading whine, before he gasped and moaned softly, the words alone heightening his lust. His lips dropped to the side of Billie's neck and began to work away. Billie fought against the increasing desire to beg for more. He swallowed, and in the quiet, more sound from the opposite rooms filtered through.  
  
 _"Ohhhh God....ah...th-there...just there...yes...y-es...oh God!"  
  
"Don't stop...I wanna bleed...nnn...AH! Please...fucking...do it harder...AHH!"_  
  
  
Billie unconsciously tilted his head as Fink Two moved all over his neck and throat, claiming every inch for himself. Fink One took hold of one of Billie's hands and began sucking at his fingers, swirling his tongue as only the Finks know how. Somehow Billie regained the power of speech.  
  
"You know...I came in this room telling myself it's all just a dream, all of it...and...up until now I believed it...ah..." he paused as Fink Two's teeth grazed over his skin. "But then I thought...this is better than a dream...this is actually _real_."  
  
Fink Two chuckled quietly and pulled away, watching Billie as his head lolled, eyes closed.  
  
"You wore eyeliner." he murmured. A smile blossomed on his face, not evil, but warm. Just like the one from his dream. "Good boy."  
  
As Billie opened his eyes and looked up at him, this captivating devil drifted closer and closed his lips over his own, effortlessly claiming them too. This time, though, Billie willingly drifted into the arms of helplessness. He pulled Fink Two down as he lay back, maintaining the kiss. As Fink One easily unbuttoned his pants and began easing them off, Fink Two held his attention with lips, tongue and exploring hands that delved under his shirt and ascended his pale chest.  
  
"Mmm...nnnn...." he moaned into Fink Two's mouth, back arching and arms wrapping around the demon above him. Vinyl covered legs shifted to straddle him, fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, swept his tie aside and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. By the time Fink Two broke away, Billie was already naked and underneath the sheets, writhing shamelessly. In little more than ten seconds he had been stripped, shifted and incredibly turned on -and he had barely noticed. He looked hazily up into those painted hazel eyes, breath already laboured and hips bucking instinctively up to graze against vinyl through velvet, making him whine.  
  
Desperate. Needy. Subconsciously remembering just how wonderful and life-altering the sex with Fink two weeks ago was, and shivering with anticipation what it would be like with two of them.  
  
Even the thoughts of his subconscious ebbed away as the Finks swapped places, movements so elegant and smooth that the soft red lighting made the whole scene seem exquisitely dreamlike to him. Fink One - the clone - moved to meet his lips, manipulating them gently with his own, tongue slipping discreetly into Billie's warm and welcoming mouth. Fink Two - his purged spirit - removed his fingerless gloves, before licking at his fingers and tracing a nail delicately over Billie's crack and stopping at his twitching hole. Billie's back arched powerfully, gasping away from Fink One's mouth as he felt the finger gently invade him. Fink One snickered quietly at his reaction, feeling Billie grope blindly at his own torso in a bid to reciprocate. He grasped Billie's hands and pinned them back into the bed, making his eyes open a little and look up in dim confusion.  
  
"No no no..." he chided, smirking wickedly. "Today we worship at _your_ temple, Billie Joe."  
  
Any reply Billie had formed in his throat became a choked off moan as Fink Two slid another finger into him, easing them both deeper and finding his sweet spot. He brought his knees up jerkily, settling his feet flat on the bed beneath and digging in his heels at the blissful feeling of Fink Two's fingertips massaging over the nub inside him.  
  
"Fuck... _fuck_..." he breathed, breath hitching, intensely aroused. "AHH... _ahh_...f-fuck..."  
  
As Fink One's mouth once again decended to his, Billie's mind shimmered into being with the most wide-eyed, awed of thoughts.  
  
This was...this was _indescribable_. Beautiful and sensual and graceful and powerful, but even that did not even come close to describing exactly how it felt to Billie. Utterly stripped of morals and questions, his head rolled weakly into the pillow, lost in the combined sensations of rocking wantonly against Fink Two's caressing fingers and Fink One's teeth nibbling and sucking at his reddening lips and tongue. Their free hands dragged their nails over his inner thighs and stomach, almost overwhelming him completely. He writhed and squirmed under those teasing hands, whimpered yelps muffled by painted lips, three fingers now penetrating him, fucking him, mind spinning wildly into the ether. By the time Fink Two withdrew, he was dizzy and sweating and almost delirious. Fink One broke away to attend to his neglected neck and chest, and out of heavy-lidded eyes, he could vaguely see Fink Two bending his head towards his aching erection. Through instinct and nothing else, Billie's hand found his trailing lead, barely mustering the coherence to wrap his hand around it and pull it taut, forcing Fink Two to stop in his tracks and look up curiously.  
  
Billie shook his head feebly, eyes cloudy but pleading, chest heaving.  
  
"Please...please..." he panted, voice crawling out as a whine. "D-don't...Fink...Please just...fuck me...AH!" he cried out, eyes shutting tight, as Fink One's tongue encircled his nipple, licking and tasting it. His head pressed back into the pillow, back an arc, voice now begging, trembling and unashamedly frantic. "I need you to fuck me...Fink...God, I can't take it...I need you-I need you to fuck me now...PLEASE..."  
  
Fink Two watched in quiet amazement. Gone was the terrified, confused, cowering, easily manipulated Billie Joe of barely ten minutes earlier. Now he was a whimpering, begging, out-of-his-mind in desperation, easily manipulated Billie Joe. As if in concurrence with Billie's plea, his pale, thin hips suddenly shuddered a little, bucking at nothing.  
A feral, wolfish grin spread slowly over Fink Two's face as he reached down by the side of the bed and obtained his lube.  
  
"All you had to do was beg, sweetcake." he murmured sweetly.  
  
Billie remained as he was, breath escaping in short, whined gasps, head pressing hard against the pillow. He could hear the quiet, wet sounds of Fink One's lavish attention to his body, and Fink Two's application of the lubricant. He was floating. He was frail, ethereal.  
  
This was torture. This was almost heaven.  
  
Almost.  
  
Just as he felt his hedonistic high begin to wane, he felt his legs being lifted, resting on vinyl covered shoulders. Hands touching his shaking hips. Then...  
  
Then...  
  
Fink Two eased into him, and there was nothing else. Nothing but this demon, this ghost inside him and moving, rocking slowly, rubbing over his prostate _every single time_ and working him effortlessly into a dazed state that constantly teetered just on the edge of orgasm. Beautiful agony.  
  
"Fuck...f..fuck..." Billie sobbed repeatedly, mind breaking apart and coloured like a supernova. "Fuck...F-Fink...Fin..k...FINK...."  
  
He didn't need to focus on the stimulation deep inside him anymore - _it_ focussed on _him_. Wide and consuming and cloying, inescapable.  
  
Billie cracked open his eyes to see that, at some point, both Finks had removed their masks, and were now watching him, eyes glittering in the poor light. Unable to speak, he merely made a few weak, almost bewildered noises.  
  
He was staring at himself.  
  
Himself in make-up and vinyl, black hair gelled and quivering.  
  
Quivering as he fucked him like no-one else could.  
  
He was staring at himself...fucking himself.  
  
And, unsurprisingly, Fink One seemed to sense this sudden realisation in him. The clone slid close to his head, lips brushing his earlobe.  
  
"Don't be scared..." he whispered. "You know how good this feels. You've never felt pleasure like this. So _embrace_ it."  
  
As Fink One said this, the cries from the other rooms became louder. He could hear Mike, Tre, The Snoo, Van Gough, and now Balducci and Z. He could hear all of them approaching climax, shouting, shrieking, pleading for harder or faster or deeper. His eyes remained on Fink Two before him, pushing into him, face also glistening with sweat, little moans falling from those painted lips, and eyes looking right back at him. Looking at him with hazy adoration.  
  
He felt Fink One's lips against his neck.  
  
"Let them know just how good this feels."   
  
Fink Two's pace increased suddenly, still with the same grace, but with a new sense of urgency.  
  
After another few seconds of staring at his decadent demon, Billie lost himself. His spine arched painfully hard as he began to push back against him, vision sparkling, mind reduced to sharp points that shone brighter than the sun.  
  
And he screamed.  
  
He screamed like he was possessed, over and over, completely drowning out the sounds from the other rooms. He screamed his lover's name to the heavens, mind asunder, soul blinding, and body enraptured.  
  
 _ **"FINK!!!"**_  
  
As Fink Two's voice joined his, ecstasy swallowed him, lighting up the world, his screams fading out with the coloured stars bursting joyfully inside his head.   
  
Then white, then black.  
  
  
Billie would never be able to say if he had passed out right after that. His first memory after hearing his own screams disappear was feeling two bodies pressed close either side of him. Then hearing himself breath like he'd just run in the Olympics. His vision slowly returned, and the soft red light glowed above him, net draping around him, and a womb-like calm filling the room.  
  
Once his breathing had returned to normal, his head lolled to one side, and was confronted with a re-masked, slyly grinning Fink face.  
  
Satin bow...Fink One.  
  
"Have fun?" the devil enquired, chuckling low.  
  
Billie made no reply, only weakly nodding his head. He then looked over to his other side, this time seeing a re-masked, softly smiling Fink face.  
  
Dog collar...Fink Two.  
  
"Did that make up for the two weeks of crazy?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Billie nodded again, slower this time, before a foolish grin spread across his face.  
  
"I was gonna say I don't know how you do it...but I do."  
  
The three of them chuckled identically, before snuggling down deeper into the velvet covers, listening to the quiet that had finally befallen the warehouse.  
  
The peace wasn't to last, though. Just as Billie's mind began to sink hazily into sleep, an almighty crash almost made his heart shatter. He sat up to see the door vibrating with the force that it had hit the door, and two silhouetted figures that were scrambling through the doorway, voices so shrill and garbled they were impossible to understand.  
  
"Guys?!" Billie exclaimed. His first instinct was to curl up in a little ball of shame at them having seen him naked-but-for-sheets and sandwiched between himself and himself. This instinct vanished on seeing Mike in nothing but jeans and _bunny ears_ and Tre wrapped in a garish pink sequinned sheet and inexplicably clutching a tennis racket.  
This would have been something to point and collapse in laughter at, were it not for the fact that all colour had drained from their faces. As Billie raised his hands, straining his ears for even a hint of English, the Finks sat up, stretching and settling heavy-lidded eyes on the intruders. Both Mike and Tre choked on their words at the sight of them, eyes growing to saucers and flicking between the three of them.  
  
"Bill, you...are they...what are..." Mike attempted, failing each time.  
  
"Were you...were you THREE..." Tre exclaimed. "What the FUCK..."  
  
Billie winced, cheeks flushing dark under the red light as each Fink draped themselves luxuriously over him, hands running over his naked body, eyes filled with dark delight at their near-catatonia. Billie then noticed that his hand was still wrapped tight around the silver lead attached to Fink Two's collar.  
  
"I-It‘s not technically cheating..." he whimpered a little. Then, louder, "Guys, I swear I can explain _everything_..."   
  
"So you can explain why I just got fucked into next week by MYSELF?" Tre squawked. Mike's head snapped round and he looked at Tre, aghast.  
  
"You _too_?!" he exclaimed.  
  
Billie swallowed back any words he'd formed. He looked to Fink Two.  
  
"They...Van Gough and The Snoo..." he faltered in surprise.  
  
Fink Two gave a snuffing laugh, cheek resting on his shoulder.  
  
"You're surprised by anything that happens here anymore?" he drawled, eyeing him in languid amusement.  
  
Billie was about to offer words of comfort to his panicking bandmates, but instead his mind flashed back to earlier that night. They way they'd treated him like he was insane. The way Mike had been dismissive and even snappy about Billie's predicament. So, he looked accusingly at them.  
  
"Now do you believe me?" he asked, before reaching over and pulling off Fink Two's mask, then pulling it down over his own head. "NOW do you believe me?!" he repeated louder.  
  
Mike and Tre looked from Billie to...Billie...whimpering and choking off words. They huddled together, each fearing that the other was the only sane person in a ten mile radius. Billie watched them squirm for a few moments, before pulling off the mask and handing it back to Fink Two, who replaced it over his own face. The few moments of relative silence was enough to hear an odd, high-pitched whistling noise, followed by a crackle, then a humming. Billie felt Fink Two stiffen.  
  
"What's that...?" Billie murmured, all four of them looking towards the open door, the source of the noise.  
  
All _four_ of them?  
  
Billie looked to his side, suddenly feeling his gut twist for some unknown reason at the space beside him.  
  
"Where's Fink?" Billie asked, looking to Fink Two. "Where's the _other_ Fink?"  
  
Fink Two at first made no reply, instead listening to the continuing faint noise. Whistle, crackle, pause, hum, whistle, crackle, pause, hum...  
  
The he smiled. And this time it was the smile of old. The demon. Faded almost to nothing, the remaining black lipstick curled upwards with his pouty lips. He chuckled low as Billie recoiled a little, freeing his hand from its death-grip around his lead.  
  
"I get the feeling it's going to be hard for you to leave this place, sweetcake..." he murmured, sloping out of the bed, some-fucking-how looking instantly impeccable. Billie felt the pit of his gut tighten, and he wasn't sure if it was pleasant or not. He looked to his bandmates, worry in his eyes.  
  
Suddenly, Van Gough and The Snoo appeared in the doorway, also not looking like they'd had sex not five minutes ago. Mike and Tre shrank away from them instantly.  
  
"You better come see this, Fink..." Van Gough said, smirking through his bandages. The Snoo gave a quiet cackle. He looked to the wide eyed Green Day trio.  
  
"You should come too." his eyes settled on Billie. "Maybe even literally for you, Mr. Green Day."  
  
He and Van Gough tossed Mike and Tre's clothes at their feet, before parting and allowing their ringleader to sweep past, following him and giggling like schoolchildren.  
  
Billie remained in the bed, hands now clutching tightly at the bunched covers, not really wanting to get up and see what new terrors awaited him. His bandmates scrabbled at their clothes, hurrying to put them on and discard whatever ‘extras' they were wearing. Then they were at the end of the bed, looking at Billie with an anxiety that was quite terrifying.  
  
"Billie, what'rewegonnado?" Tre hissed. "What if they don't let us out of here?"  
  
"What're they gonna do to us?" Mike asked, voice tight with panic. "I mean, are they...are they gonna keep us here as-as sex slaves or something?!"  
  
Tre gasped suddenly.  
  
"Ohmigod, we're _pregnant_ , aren't we?!" he exclaimed.  
  
"WHAT?!!" Mike damn near shrieked, turning to him, eyed bulging in fear.  
  
"Wait, WAIT!" Billie cried, hands raised in a calming motion. "Please, calm the fuck down, guys, _please_!" he reached down the side of the bed and picked up his clothes, keeping his eyes on his bandmates, who looked on the verge of total hysteria. He spoke, voice low, as he dressed hurriedly. "You're _not_ pregnant...I swear to God, I can explain absolutely everything to you, but right now we have to get the fuck out of here. Just...just don't panic, ok?"  
  
Tre bit back the flood of questions at his lips, wringing his hands nervously.  
  
"But Fink, or whoeverthefuck that was, he said...he said it'd be hard for you to leave..." he faltered.  
  
"Yeah, well..." Billie paused and swallowed. "Sh-shut up."  
  
"Jesus..." Mike hissed, looking back through the open door as Billie kicked off the covers and got out of the bed, pulling on his shoes.  
  
At the end of the corridor, The Network - with the exception of Captain Underpants - stood at the top of the black metal staircase, looking down into the main hall. Fink Two looked back into the bedroom. He looked positively malevolent.  
  
As Billie joined his bandmates in the doorway, he felt his blood chill at the look on Fink Two's face.  
  
"You _have_ to see this." the demon murmured, eyes glittering.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Mike who stepped forward first. He grasped Billie's hand.  
  
"C'mon...he has to be bluffing. W-we have to get out of here."  
  
Billie's eyes remained on Fink Two as he was pulled down the corridor by Mike, Tre beside him. He could have sworn that, given half a chance and judging by how he was looking at him, that Fink Two would have turned right around and swallowed him whole. No whimpers escaped Billie's lips now. He was struck into silence by the newly dark look on his demon's face, and the ever decreasing distance between him and some new terror...if he'd had the time, he probably would have chewed off Mike's hand, run back and locked himself in the bedroom where it was reasonably safe.  
  
But no, because he was being dragged closer and closer, digging in his heels to no avail, and...and...  
  
He squirmed out of Mike's grasp, stopping in his tracks and shaking his head viciously, right before the doorway.  
  
"I can't..." he squeaked.  
  
Mike and Tre, however, merely looked back at him once before morbid curiosity drew them to the edge of the staircase. He heard them both gasp sharply, then nothing more.  
  
"What?" Billie asked, voice strained. "What is it?!"  
  
Fink Two smiled serenely at him, playing with his lead as he spoke.  
  
"You don't have to be scared." he soothed. Billie merely looked pained and shook his head again.  
  
Fink Two sloped away from where he stood, slinking behind Billie and resting his hands on his hips, chin on his shoulder.  
  
"Come look." he encouraged, gently pushing the almost terrified Billie forward, wrapping his arms firmly around his waist so he couldn't squirm away. The rest of The Network parted for them. And finally...Billie looked down.  
  
  
Looked down into a sea of red vinyl and stripes. Wall to wall. The entire main hall was filled with Finks.  
  
  
Billie's hand clamped tightly over his mouth and he fought vainly against a horrified shriek. His eyes, were they to get any wider, would probably fall right out of his head. He felt absolutely delirious, like his mind was floating just above his head. Never, never, ever before had he seen anything even approaching this kind of dream-like - fucking _nightmarish_ sight before him. He pressed back against Fink Two, shrinking into his arms, eyes becoming damp.  
  
Captain Underpants sat on top of the cloning machine, from which Finks were still spilling out. He looked up at the surveyors, then pointed directly at Billie.  
  
"Look - your daddy has arrived!" he proclaimed.  
  
Innumerable striped heads turned to look up. Innumerable mesmerizing, mischievous, painted hazel eyes settled on one petrified, small, damn near sobbing Billie Joe Armstrong. Painted black lips curled into demonic smiles. And a glorious chorus of identical Billie voices rose to the heavens.  
  
  
"Hey, sweetcake!"  
  
 _Fin._


End file.
